


Five Times Tony Saved Peter

by gublerlover



Series: Marvel Oneshots [1]
Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017), The Avengers (Marvel) - All Media Types
Genre: Angst, Hurt Peter, Hurt/Comfort, Peter Needs a Hug, Peter Parker Needs a Hug, Protective Tony Stark, Tony Stark Has A Heart, Violence, Whump, Worried Tony Stark, dad tony
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-08-06
Updated: 2018-08-03
Packaged: 2018-12-07 04:26:10
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 6
Words: 10,464
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11615832
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/gublerlover/pseuds/gublerlover
Summary: ...and the one time Peter saved him.. . ."I-uh-don't really...like tight spaces,"  Peter panted,  pressure digging into his chest.  Smoke drug itself into his lungs, a hasty cough forcing him awake."Peter, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"And of course, Captain-fuckin'-America just had to show up.





	1. collapsing

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi! new book!! im hoping to update at least once a week, and i already have a ton written. can't wait !!
> 
> as always, this is unbeta'd, and comments & kudos are always appreciated !!

There was a pasty silence in the air, and Tony knew that was bad. One of the things that annoyed him most about Peter, was his hyperverbal-ness, but suddenly the air felt bare without his constant rambling. He dug through layers and layers of rubble, but only was rewarded with more soot and rocks. "Peter?" He called out again,  _which was useless,_ he reminded himself.   _If he doesn't respond the first ten times, why would he respond now?_

 

His arms were aching, and he desperately needed a break, but Peter was alone down there, and he needed his help.  He wouldn't allow himself a leisurely break while Peter was under tons of concrete and probably suffocating. A whine interrupted his self-deprecating thoughts, and he almost groaned in frustration.  A part of him wanted Peter to stay in a blissful state of unconsciousness, throughout the painful process of dragging him out from under the pillars of stone. "Kid?  You alright down there?"  Tony asked, and immediately wished to revise his choice of words. 

 

 _Of course not, dumbass.  He's being crushed under a full building._ Tony shakes away the thoughts and waits for a response, tirelessly dragging the stones.  He'd called Search and Rescue as soon as the building came down, just to call the Avengers and a Stark ambulance when he realized Peter was stuck under there. 

 

"I-I think," Peter said in a breathy tone, Tony almost missing the muffled voice.  "Good, uh, great. So," Tony started, desperate to distract the teen.  "Did you have any big tests lately?"  He asked, dragging part of a pillar off of the kid.  

 

"I-um-I got my calculus test back-" A wet cough interrupted Peter, halfway through his forced conversation, and Tony hoped to God that it wasn't blood.  "I got a ninety-five on, on it." Peter swallowed in pain, and tried to breathe through his wrecked lungs.  "That's, uh, that's great, kid.  Keep up the good work in school, it pays off." 

 

Tony finally felt like he was getting somewhere when he heard an exhale from the kid, and a reassurance that Peter could breathe a bit better.  "So, what's Aunt hottie making for dinner tonight?" Tony asked with a different tone, laced with fake humour. Peter released a laugh that sounded a little too much like a sob, and replied with a shakier voice than before. "Thai takeout, I-I think." 

 

Tony cringed internally, wondering when the goddamn search and rescue people would arrive, and how much of this building happened to collapse on this kid.

 

"How ya holding up, down there?" Tony asked, attempting to keep a steady voice.

 

The silence seemed to grab Tony, suffocating him on his own words, before he asked again.

 

"Kid? You okay?"

 

A cough muffled through the debris, and he could feel Peter moving. "...Yeah, uhm, d-do you know when we'll get outta here?" He could _hear_ Peter's labored breathing, having a strange resemblance to someone who was choking. 

"As soon as we can." He replied, taking a fake steadiness to his voice.  "I-uh-don't really...like tight spaces,"  Peter panted, and pressure digging into his chest.  Smoke drug itself into his lungs, a hasty cough forcing him awake. 

 

"Peter, I'm gonna get you out of here, okay?"

 

And of course, Captain-fuckin'-America just _had_ to show up.

 

"You called?" He asked, the new sheild shining in reflection.  After looking over the whole situation, a frown framed over his face. "The kid?" He tilted his head towards the rubble, where Ironman's suit was dented and covered in dust, but still fully functional.

 

"Take a wild guess." Tony spit out, not bothering to look up.  Steve walked over, frown on face, and shoved the shield on his back. 

 

Starting to drag pieces of stone away, he heard quiet whispters. "D-did I hear C-Captain America?" A muffled voice startled Steve, before he gave a fake laugh.  "Yep, kid. Live and in the flesh." 

 

"W-we, should, uh, really meet on better circumstances, huh?" Peter gave a rough and quiet laugh, but Steve was thankful enough he was conscious.

 

"You seem to get into a lot of these situations, we should cover you in bubble wrap." He looked at Tony, who still hasn't stopped moving rocks, and sighed.

 

"Peter, we're getting a bit closer. Do you have any leeway to move?" Tony said, in a soft voice (that Steve had never heard him use before.)  He heard some shuffling and a muffled groan.

 

"I, uh, shi-crap, tha'hurts," He muttered, more to himself than the two superheroes above him.  "Oh, god, get me out of here, plea-oh, my god, I can't-"

 

"Okay, just calm down, kid.  We're getting you out now."  Steve said, starting to see red and black patches through the stone.

 

"Peter, hey, what's wrong?"

 

"I, uhm, don't have good history with-with falling buildings," Peter choked out, and Tony cringed.  "When the hell did a building collapse on you?" 

 

A loud screech of sirens interrupted whatever Peter was thinking, and Tony could hear a hesitant sob. "Kid? Ambulances are here, Stark superhero ones, alright?" Tony coached, hearing messy groans, and a soft voice through the rumbles and sirens.

 

"Loud."

 

And Tony remembered, the senses, the hearing, and how everything must be at least ten times more vibrant for the kid than anyone else. "Shit-" 

 

"Language-" Steve warned, ignoring a pissed glare from Ironman.

 

"Shut the fuck up. Peter, I know, but they're really close and they'll stop soon, okay?" 

 

"Mhm." Tony finally managed to get eyes on the kid's mask, and began digging even faster.

 

Peter shook out his arm and pulled off his mask, taking in deep breaths. "T-thanks." Spider-man exhaled.

 

"Yeah, now let's get you to that ambulance." Steve told the kid, and pulled away the final pieces of debris. Tony quickly read his vitals, which were shakey, but definitely better than anticipated.  Peter's heartbeat was fluttering around, and his eyelashes were sinking closed.

 

The ambulance came closer, Tony stepped out of his suit and sent it back to the facility. "Thanks, for, uh, helping out back there." He said, and Steve shot the kid a sad smile, before returning his gaze to Tony.

 

"I'm here for you and the kid. Call me later with how he's feeling."  Tony nodded, and heading towards the ambulance.

 

* * *

 

Peter's footsteps quietly padded through the new Avengers facility.  After everything was dealt with at the ambulance, he was put on an oxygen tank for an hour and a half, listening to Tony complain about Steve whilst thanking him (it's all very confusing.)

They finally discharged him, and Tony leant him a loose pair of sweatpants and a Stark Industries tee-shirt to change into, before he disappeared into the elevator to let Peter rest. 

 

_"I called your aunt, already. She's fine with you staying over a few nights.  Your friends, Ted and AJ already know." Peter didn't bother to correct him._

 

_"Okay, thank you."_

 

_"Right."_

 

"Hey, Friday?" Peter asked, looking up.

 

"Yes, Peter?" The AI's automated voice responded.  "Can I get something out of the fridge?" 

 

"Of course, Peter.  Mr. Stark said you can help yourself to anything you like.  Should I inform him you're awake?" She asked, and Peter shook his head. "Only if you want to."

 

He grabbed a box of Ritz Crackers and devoured it within minutes, and wondered if Tony had even known he was awake.  It's already been fifteen minutes, and he made the safe assumption that Friday hadn't actually told Tony. Or he was busy. 

 

"Oh, hey kid. How you feel?" 

 

Peter smiled at the voice and spun around in his chair. "Better, thank-"

 

Peter almost spit out his milk.  Here, infront of him, a dorky kid from Queens, is _Captain America_.

 

"H-hi, Captian America, sir," Peter stuttered, and he saw the man smile.  "Call me Steve." He said, and Peter literally stopped himself from swooning.

 

"I-uh, th-thanks for helping b-before, y'know, I-" Peter stopped himself, before realizing he still had a glass of milk and a handful of crackers in his grip. He wiped off his hands, before stumbling over to the super soldier. 

 

 "Good job out there, kid.  Not many people could stay that level headed."  Steve smiled, his perfect smile, with his perfect teeth, and Tony could actually _see_  Peter's eyes turn into hearts. He stop himself from rolling his eyes.

 

"Alright, why don't you order us a pizza, Cap." Steve nodded, before leaving with a clap on Peter's back. 

 

"Woah, that was-" 

 

"We need to talk." 

 

"Yeah."

 

Tony sighed at the kid's disheveled appearance.  "Okay, first, when did a fu- a building fall on you?"

"Oh, uhm - do you remember the Vulture?" 

 

"Jesus-"

 

"Yeah, _hemayormaynothavecollapsedabuildingonme_ -"

 

"Oh, my god."

 

"But I was fine! I got out of it!" 

 

Tony shook his head. "I'm glad you're okay."

 

"Yeah, me too."  He grinned and downed the rest of his milk.

 

 

 

It turns out, eating pizza with Tony Stark and Steve Rogers while watching Star Wars could be crossed off his bucket list. 


	2. Chapter 2

The second time a loud ringing caused heads to turn in Tony's (very important) meeting, he was met with bitter glares.  "I thought we agreed to silence our phones," One of the business men groaned, and Tony frowned at the caller ID.

 

_Two missed calls from Peter Parker_

 

"Gotta get this," He muttered, before walking out the doorway with heavy feet. Accepting the call, he'd already prepared a miniature lecture for the kid. Tony had previously told the kid to call Happy, not him. He was emergencies only.

 

All that was thrown out the window when he heard a shaking voice on the other end of the line.

 

 _"T-Tony_ -"

 

"Kid? What's wrong?" He asked; already having FRIDAY track the location of his suit and phone.

 

" _You gotta_ ," The quiet voice on the other side of the line paused, a muffled gasp increasing Tony's heart beat already.

 

" _You gotta help me, you gotta get me out of here."_

 

 _"_ Peter, where are you?" Peter's breathing was _definitely_ too ragged.  The strangled choking sound that came next literally made Tony shake, and call anyone who could get eyes on the kid.

 

" _I-I don't know, I-I'm sorry, it's dark, Tony, please, just—_ "  The kid sounded desperate, and god be damned if this was his last conversation with Peter.

 

"I tracked where you are, and I'll be there soon. Are you hurt?"  The line was filled with muffled noises, before it went dead.

 

" _Shit_."

 

* * *

 

Peter rocked back and forth, back pressed against a wall.  His head pounded against his skull, echoing a heavy  _thump_ sound. 

 

Everything was loud. Louder than it should be, enhanced senses or not.  He pressed his palms, tightly against his eyes, and there were so many colors, colors, _colors_.

 

Sometime or another, he stood up, and ran into a few walls or poles.  He fell, hit his head, he wasn't sure about everything.

 

And then there was Ben, younger than he remembered, standing there.  He watched Peter with curious brown eyes as he stumbled over to the figure. 

 

"This—"  He paused and breathed heavily.

 

"this isn't real." 

 

But Ben opened his arms and hugged him, and he was so warm, and he smelled like wood shavings and his cologne and _god, Peter missed him._ He didn't let go.

 

But soon enough, Tony was there, he was being dragged away, and Peter screamed.  He wouldn't lose him again. He clawed at the iron gauntlets and sobbed, pulling away with all his force.

 

"Peter! Calm down! He's not—"

 

"Shut _up! Get off of me! You're lying, you're lying!"_

 

His yells slowly died down to sobs, which faded to dazed mumbles. Peter collapsed onto Tony's chestplate, and looked behind him. He saw Ben give him a smile, and whisper something.  Then he was gone.

"I hate you, I hate you," Peter whispered on repeat.

Tony's heart was crushed.

 

 

* * *

 

Peter opened his eyes, a low groan emerging from his lips when the lights hit his irises.

 

"Hey, it's alright. Can you sit up?" Someone - that must've been Tony - said, and Peter nodded with a grimace.  Tony frowned at him. 

 

With a swift look, Peter deduced that he was in the Avengers tower, Tony Stark was with him, and Bruce Banner was sitting at a table across the room. _The_ Bruce Banner.

 

With a comforting hand on his shoulder, he managed to pull himself up.  "You okay?" Tony asked, hesitance leaking in his tone, and Peter nodded dully.  

 

"'hat happened?" His words unwilling slicked together. 

 

"I was hoping you could tell me that." 

 

Peter looked at him with confusion, and glanced over to Bruce. "He took blood, we think you might've been drugged."

 

"Oh." 

 

Tony shook his head, and moved to sit on the couch. "Does everything feel okay?" He asked, and Peter felt himself shake at the sudden silence.  He looked up, to be met with a fuzzy version of Tony.

 

"Blurry, I, uh—" Peter stopped, and pressed a hand to his chest. "T-Too tight." 

 

Tony sent a worried glare to the doctor, who nodded.  Peter shook his head, back and forth, back and forth, back and for-

 

"-eter! Snap out of it," Tony wrapped a hand around the kid's, and sighed when he gripped back.  Peter felt his breath slow, and the air felt a little heavier.

 

The next few sentences were fuzzy and wrong.

 

"- _he needs to get to medical wing."_

 

_"-at? Why?  I thought—"_

 

" _He's overdosing, call the medics!"_

_"—Friday, get a stretcher down here, with paramedics———we do?"_

_"Called, already. I recommend mouth to mouth if Peter stops breathing. —flusher may be useful."_

 

 _"_ Peter, hey, can you hear me?" He slowly hazed back into the present. 

 

"Pete? You holding up here?" 

 

"He's not responding, Bruce, he's not—shit, what do we do?" 

 

"Tony, calm down. He might be able to hear you, freaking out won't get you anywhere." 

 

"B-Ben?" 

 

"No, Pete, it's Tony. How are you?"

 

"I mis'you." He slurred, and Tony held back a sigh.  "Peter, it's not-" 

 

"I'm happy."

 

Tony knew he was getting nowhere, but kept trying. "Peter, it's Tony, I'm not—" His knuckles were white from gripping the thermometer.  Peter frowned and squinted. 

"'m sorry, you look like 'im,"

 

Tony wasn't sure if there was a faster way to break his heart.

 

"It's okay. It's fine." 

 

He heard the elevator ding, and medics rush from it.

 

He didn't get go of Peter's shaking hand. He wouldn't let him go through this alone.

 

* * *

 

"Hey, buddy. How you feeling?"

 

Peter blinked, and subconsciously tugged at the I.V in his arm. 

 

"Tired." He responded, and pulled the blankets closer to him. 

 

"I'd assume so."  

 

Tony opened his mouth to say something, before closing it again.  "Called May already, don't worry." 

 

Peter nodded and closed his eyes again.  

 

"Thanks."

 

"Just rest up."  With a pat on the shoulder, Tony got up and left.

 

* * *

 

 

Steve came a few hours later, leaning on the doorway, arms crossed.

 

"We found the guy who drugged you. Stole your wallet, thought you saw his face and jabbed you with a needle." 

 

The kid looked up from his book—Edger Allen Poe, Short Stories—and passed a fake smile.  "That's good." He half-heartily said.

 

"How do you feel?" 

 

Steve pulled a chair out from a metal table and sat it close to the bed.  Peter didn't respond, so he tried again.

 

"Tony said you got a concussion from falling.  He's worried."  Peter frowned at the confession and tucked his book to the side.

 

"He won't talk to me." 

 

Steve nodded, an understanding look on his face.  "I don't see Tony like this a lot, but you mean too much for him to lose." 

 

"We care about you. All the Avengers, you know.  Seeing you get hurt is hard for all of us, but Tony brought you into this. If anything happened to you..."  Steve paused, and ran a hand through his hair. 

 

"he'd be a wreck." He finished, and stood up.  

 

"I'll call him down here, okay? You can talk it out." Peter nodded and muttered a 'thanks, Cap.' as he walked to the door.

 

"Anytime, kid."

 

* * *

 

 

" _He's a kid, Tony, and he's gone through more crap than half of us. You have to talk to him!"_

Steve's voice rang in his head as he knocked on the open door of Peter's room.  Tony caved, of course he would, who could fight with the Spirit of America? (Beside the Civil War, of course.) 

 

"Hey, Pete, it's Tony." 

 

"Hi." 

 

He cringed at the addressing, before taking a seat next to Peter.  "Sorry I wasn't here before." 

"It's fine. Natasha and Clint did a lyrical dance preformance for me.  It was pretty interesting." 

 

Tony saw the way Peter talked about them, how his eye's lit up, and he smiled. "Should've recorded it."  He tossed back, and got a small smile. "Yeah." Peter snickered. 

 

Peter's facade faded away, and Tony saw how pale he looked. "I'm sorry for calling you Ben, earlier, and for fighting you in the warehouse—I just,"

 

"Peter, don't—"

 

"You guys look like each other, I've noticed it before, but—"

 

"Peter, really, I—"

 

"It's fine, Mr. Stark, and I don't hate you, I just—thought he was real, you did nothing wrong, and thank you for taking me back here, really, you didn't have to. Pepper said you left a meeting because of the call, and I'm really sorry."  Peter looked up and noticed how tired Tony seemed.

 

"You don't have to apologize, and I get it, Peter.  You were drugged, I'd never leave you like that. I'm always here for you, whatever you need." 

 

Peter smiled and nodded. "and you can call me Tony." He said, patting Peter on the back.  "Get some rest, we can talk more tomorrow." 

 

He flicked the lights out and closed the door. Peter exhaled. 

 

"Friday?"

 

_"Yes, Peter?"_

 

"Thank Tony and Steve for me, okay?"

 

" _Of course."_

 

 


	3. Chapter 3

 

 

> * * *
> 
> "He's dead already."

Peter froze.

* * *

 

The pressure in the room made Peter sweat, and he didn't have his suit to cool him down.

_Where the hell am I, anyway?_

* * *

 

"N-no, no, he's not, you're lying." The teen spit out through clenched teeth, venom leaking into his words.

"Now, Peter, why would I lie about that?" The doctor gave a sick smile, before walking out the door and leaving Peter to his self-destructive tendencies.

He focused as much as he could on his senses, trying to hear any stray conversations, footsteps, or warnings that Tony was alive, but there was nothing. Peter didn't know whether there was nothing to hear or if his senses were damaged.

 

* * *

  
"Ah, Peter! We have an appointment with you." A creepy-looking lady walked over to the boy, hovering in the corner. "If you fucking _touch_ me I'll break your arm." He spat, not bothering to look up from the dirty floor.

"That's not nice. We will sedate you if you don't come quietly." She said, folding her hands and smiling.

"Try me."

 

* * *

 

That's how Peter ended up on a metal table, unconscious, with needles poking at him. An odd sensation of pain tingled down his left arm, before he remembered the fight he got in when they tried to drug him. Of course, they won. They had guns and big bulky dudes, and he was a lanky teen who could jump on stuff. Not good odds.

Light seeped into his vision, and he could feel water flowing over his face, before he realized he was drowning, he couldn't breathe, there was no air air air-

"Peter, Pete, c'mon, calm down, it's okay," He recognized the voice, it wasn't Tony, Tony was dead, dead, dead-

"Pete! Hey, you need to calm down, bud."

Steve. Steve Rogers was here, and here, and here, here was safe—

 

"Alright, kid, let's get you out of here."

 

Steve, no, they would hurt him, he—

 

"Get away, get away from me, I can't—"

 

"Peter, hey—c'mon, kid. It's Steve, we need to get out of here." 

 

"Tony, Tony, Tony,"

 

"Tony is fine, he's getting the bad guys, but you need to come with me to see him. Alright, Peter?"

 

Steve pulled him up, he was tired, so, so, tired.  He slumped against him. 

 

“Peter, kid, open your eyes. We gotta keep goin’ man.” Steve pressed, hugging an arm around the younger. 

 

“W-Where are we, again?” 

* * *

 

 

Limping with Steve Rogers for a not-so-good twenty minute trail suddenly seemed nothing to walking alone.

 

Ironman was fighting alongside The Captain, who was undoubtedly fine. Peter skimmed his hand along the wall, trying to keep himself upright and functioning. 

 

And then he was being lead out by Natasha, in her long blonde hair glory, and God, he was thankful.

 

”Kid? Bruce is just outside, can you-“

 

”Where’s Tony?”

 

She visibly tensed, but otherwise kept her face straight. “He is...occupied.” 

 

Peter dragged his feet to the door, leaning against the superhero. 

 

“How ya holding up?” She asked, and he’s heard that so, so many times today, the words mean nothing.

 

”Mmph.” He muttered, and closed his aching eyes. 

* * *

 

“Peter, where the fuck is Peter?” Tony shouted, stripping out of the Iron suit to a more formal black one. 

 

“Tony, first of all, calm the fuck down. Second, he’s still getting looked over by Bruce. He wasn’t holding up too well, there was water some water in his lungs.” Clint said, rushing from an ambulance bench.

 

”Holy shit–did, did they—“ 

 

“We still don’t know.  He was there for days.”

 

Steve came walking out later with a few shield members, holding two HYDRA members in binds.

 

Tony sent him a nod, which he reproduced, and then walked towards the black vehicles. 

 

“Tony, c’mon. Let’s go find Peter.”

 

* * *

 

“Tony? ‘hat happened?” Peter sleepily muttered, to which stony responded with a sigh. 

 

“Kidnapped. Tortured. We didn’t even know where you were until hours ago. How ya feelin’?”

 

“Like I was just kidnapped and tortured. Who was it?”

 

Tony managed to suppress another groan. “Hydra.”

 

”Oh. Ouch.”

 

“God, you’re a magnet for trouble, y’know that?”

 

Peter smiled.

 

“You love me anyway.”

 

”Yeah, yeah. Whatever. Rest up, kid.”

 


	4. Chapter 4

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> hi guys, i’m so so sorry it’s been so long. also this sucks so so much but it’s basically just a set up for the next chapter ig? i said i wanted to upload once a week and it’s been months omg but i finished a whole chapter and it just deleted itself which was the most frustrating thing ever and i refused to write for weeks after lol. anyway i hope this is mildly readable????? but the next chap is almost done so woo hoo! also, as usual, this isn’t edited and it sucks so read with caution

Peter had a gun to his head, and he didn't know how to react. He's never really been in this position before. Sure, there's been guns pointed at him, but not one to his temple, and his neck in a headlock, where he felt beyond powerless.

What was he to do, leave the girl alone and vulnerable in the middle of New York? It's not his fault the reason she was crying and scared was because she was getting mugged! He didn't see the guy behind the dumpster!

Peter wasn't a fan on anyone else's over involvement in his life, but right now he'd really like some other involvement. Maybe some Ironman to come down and kick this guy's ass, or Ned calling at the perfect time so he could get the master of surprise  
and kick this dude in the balls! Really! Anything would do!

But it stayed silent, and Peter just waited for the armed man to talk. "I don't want to hurt you, j-just let me go," Peter stuttered, throat constricted from a rough arm.

"No." He said, blandness drifting over him. Peter stood there, an awkward grip on the mans arm, too nervous to move.

Sometimes he wished he was a normal fifteen year old. Getting drunk and crushing on girls, the whole sha-bang! (And then he takes back the thought. There's nothing he'd rather do than this.)

And then a shot rings out, and for a minute, Peter thinks he's dead. That someone just decided to give the mugger a break, and just shot good ol' Spider-man for him. He looks down at the blood, sticky, warm blood, and feels around his chest.

That's odd. There's no bullet hole.

Then he feels the heavy weight leaning on him from behind, and the blood is dripping over his shoulders, ever slowly. With a mangled gasp, he turns around and is faced with the original girl, hands shaking, but holding a gun.

"Oh god, Oh g-god, I shot-I shot him, he's...dead—"

Peter starred at her oddly, before realizing there was a body on him.

"Oh."

Peter looked at the whole situation with confused eyes. What was he supposed to do?

“Hey, calm down. It’s okay, what’s your name?” He asked, dropping the body off of him gently.

The girl dropped the gun with a strangled gasp, and started to back up. “J-Jillian—“ She choked out, hearing a strangled gasp from the mugger.

“Oh shoot, Karen, call the cops and an ambulance, please. Hey, Jillian? Just take a few breaths, alright? It’s okay, it was self defense.”

Peter lowered his body to the ground, pressing a hand to the shoulder-wound, and kicked the other gun away from the man’s reach. Jillian sniffled in the background, and slid down the alley wall.

“O-Okay, yeah,”

Karen’s automated voice chimed in a few seconds later.

“Peter, there seems to be a laceration in your left shoulder. I would recommend wrapping it in a fabric before providing further care to the injured man before you.”

“Oh shit,” Peter mumbled, pressing a opposite hand to his shoulder. Jillian’s breath hitched, before she took of her light blue sweater and ran over to the vigilante.

“H-Here, you can u-use this to stem the bleeding.” She stuttered, placing it in his hands.

Peter smiled and took the fabric.

“Thank you.”

As Peter wrapped his shoulder with the help of the blonde girl next to him, Karen chimed again.

“ETA for the ambulance is four minutes away. Tony Stark is 3 minutes away.”

Peter stammered for a second, Jillian shooting him an odd look. (No pun intended.)

“Tony? Why-Why is he coming here?”

“This may be a wild guess, but I’d assume it was because there is a bullet in your arm.” Karen replied, and Peter laughed at her sassiness.

“Okay, yeah, alright.” He sighed, feeling dizzy from the pain.

For a second, Peter felt fine. He noticed himself slightly leaning closer to the girl, her shaking his leg a little, and then calling his name.

He was fine, though.

“Mhm?” He responded gaudily, tiredly looking around. Jillian seemed nervous, biting her lip and shaking. “A-are you sure you’re okay?” She asked, again. “Yeah, yeah. I’ll be good. Don’t worry, h-hey, is that Tony?” Peter smiled and attempted to stand, shrugging an arm against the alleyway wall.

A red and gold suit suddenly landed a few feet away, before it stripped away and reveled a frazzled Tony Stark. “Hey, Spider-man, you wanna tell me what the hell just happened?” He cursed, striding over to the two of them. “S-sorry, Mr. Stark. I didn’t see the-the guy, also, I think I need a h-hospital. Y’know, bullet holes, ‘n stuff.” He slurred, leaning further against the wall as Tony caught his side. His arm soared in pain, as the bullet was displaced. “Mr. Stark, ow, fuck—“ Peter hissed.

“Christ, kid. You really took a beat down.” He muttered, changing his position to hold the vigilante upright. “Alright, here’s the plan. You’re coming with me in the Stark Ambulance. She—what’s her name?” He paused, looking expectantly at her. “Jillian Forrest, s-sir.” She said, tears still wet and dripping.

“Alright, Jillian, take a deep breath, okay? It just hit the shoulder, both of these idiots will be okay, and so will you.” Tony dug through his pockets and pulled out a crumbled card,  
handing it to her shivering hands. “Here’s a card, call the number later, and I’ll have someone deal with the cops. You alright with riding with them?” He said, still practically holding the vigilante upright.

“Y-yes, th-thank you.”

“O-oh yeah, thanks for shootin’ that guy by the way. You did the ‘ight thing.” Peter mumbled out. Jillian nodded and watched as ambulances parked near the alley. Suddenly, Peter was pulled away and another stretcher was rolled to the criminal.

Peter’s eyes were rolling in the back of his head, before he jerked back up. “B-backpack—“ He coughed out, looking around the steady ambulance.

“I’ll track it later, kid. Chill out.”

“You holding up alright?” Tony asked, sitting in the ambulance, as Peter gripped his hand.

“Uh huh. ‘Lil woozy...” He muttered, before bursting out in hysterical laughter. “L-‘Lil Woozy sounds like a rappers name—“ He managed to get out, as Tony sat back.

“Jesus, kid. This is before you’re even pumped on meds.” Tony took ahold of the clothed hand lying in front of him, and sighed.

Peter’s laughs died down, slowly but surely, and he stared up at the ceiling. He checked one more time that Mr. Stark was still there, before closing his eyes.

  
———————

Peter woke slowly, hearing muffled conversations through dry wall and heavy breaths. Shuffling slightly, he felt a tug on his arm, and pushed it off as an IV.

“Kid?” Tony asked, lips tight, as Peter sat up further. He glared at him with a disapproving look. “You wanna tell me what happened last night?” Peter looked around, figuring he was in the med-bay.

“I didn’t see the guy b-behind her, he was just—there. I would’ve been more careful—no, I will be, I swear—”

“Calm down, kiddo. Nothing’s being taken away. You just need to be a lot more careful, okay? I added a few more precautions in your suit, Cathy or whatever bullshit name you have your AI will explain them later. Alright?” Tony said, like it was nothing.

“Uh huh. Her name’s Karen, by the way.”

“Whew, okay. How are you feeling?” Tony asked, suddenly giving a concerned glare.

“My arm kinda hurts. But that’s expected, y’know. Is Jillian okay? What about the mugger?”

“Of course that’s what you’re concerned about. Jillian is fine, no chargers were pressed by the guy’s family. His name is Kevin Moore, he’s being charged with theft, assault, and drug possession. He’s fine, by the way. Now, how are you feeling? This isn’t an easy thing to go through, Peter.” Tony reminded him, gaze heavy.

“Y-yeah, I mean, it’s like, wow, I got shot, I coulda died, but like, she didn’t mean to shoot me, so like, it’s not as bad.”

“I’m going to ignore the absurd amount of times you said like in that sentence, and move on. I know what you’re saying, but you’re not always as fine as you say you are. Obviously, I can’t be your personal therapist—“ Peter deflated at this comment, he didn’t expect that from Tony, but it still hurt that he couldn’t go to him if he needed to.

“—but I can recommend or pay for therapists if you need me too. Just give Happy a call and he’ll relay the information. You got it?”

Peter shrunk down. “Yeah, thanks.” He muttered.

“Get some rest.” Tony said, patted Peter on the knee, and walked out.

Peter put his head back on the pillow. “Friday? Lights off, please.” And with a click, he was enveloped in darkness.


	5. the sewers and peter parker’s fragile heart

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> this kinda sucks lol sorry
> 
> unedited

_“Hey, Peter. It’s Tony, you’ve been out for a few hours, just wondering when you’ll be coming back. Thor and Cap are singing karaoke, it’s uh,”_ Tony chuckled. _“It’s really somethin’. Anyway, just give me a call so everyone doesn’t get worried. ‘Right, see ya soon.”_

 _The voicemail repeated and repeated and repeated, constantly, until Peter's brain could only remember those words._  
  
_"T-Tony, Tony, help,"_  
  
_"Ah! Spider-boy, how nice of you to awake."_  
  
_"Tony-"_  
  
_"Oh, I believe Mr. Stark is...busy."_  
  
_"I sw-swear to god,"_  
  
_"Calm down, squirt. He's fine, you, on the other hand...huh. Never seen a spider get hypothermia before."_  
  
_"W-What do you want with me?"_  
  
_"Oh. Tests, torture, the same every time someone like you gets kidnapped."_  
  
_The voice stopped talking, and Peter was left again with the repeating voicemail._

* * *

  
"I'm going out, the kid has been gone for long enough." Tony said, earning a few worried gazes from the other teammates. He punched in a few codes on the tablet infront of him, before a suit assembled to his side.  
  
"Did you-"  
  
"Yes," Tony interrupted Natasha, before she could finish. "I tracked his suit, of which powered off a hour ago, pinged his phone, which has been at an abandoned warehouse for the last hour, called his Aunt, who hasn't seen him, and the same with all of his geeky friends. Zip, nada, nothin'."

“Tony, are you sure this is okay? Peter isn’t incapable—“ Bruce started.

“Yes, I’m sure! His arm isn’t even fully healed yet! I shouldn’t have even let him out by himself yet!” Tony snapped, loudly and harshly.

He didn't check to see if anyone else responded, but he could briefly hear Cap grabbing his shield. Instead, he started out to the last place Peter's cellphone pinged.  
  
Tony looked around, being met with a cracked version of Peter's phone, the voicemail icon still selected on his recent one. He held his breath, looking directly at the warehouse. Cap followed behind him, as he hesitantly trailed into the building.   
  
“Fri, replay the last footage on the phone camera.” He said, tightly.  
  
In a few seconds, the recording of Peter in hysterics being dragged away by a man dressed in black played.

“Fuck. Trace the guy, whatever you got on him, let me know.”

Tony eventually got a lead on the man. His name was Marcus McQueen (no wonder he was a villain, anyone would be with that name.)   
  
Tony told the others and they swarmed towards an old sewer system that wasn’t in works anymore, which Tony agreed that everyone was taking two hour showers when they got home.  
  
Needless to say, it was disgusting, but he’d do it for Peter. God knows what this kid was going through, or what he had already.

There was a yell from Sam, and Tony never ran so fucking fast in his whole damn life, and if anything came in his way—well, they’ll see what would happen.

And there was his kid, covered in blood and gunk, shivering like the dead, and barely awake, but there he was. Tony shifted out of his suit, and ran to Sam, catching the other side of the kid before he collapsed completely.

“We’ll take care of the bastard that did this, alright? You just get the kid to safety.” Cap said, the rest of the team erupting in agreements.

“I want this assfuck to pay. Do Peter justice.” Was all Tony said, before he helped the limping boy out of the disgusting conditions, the suit following.

“T-Tony?” Peter mumbled, eyes half-lidded.

“Yeah, buddy. It’s me. What happened?”

“I-I don’t—where are we?”

“Some outta service sewer in Brooklyn, the rest of the team are here taking care of bastard that took you.” Tony mumbled as they walked towards the exit. Peter zoned out and nodded absentmindedly.

—————————————

“Peter, I need you to talk to me!” Bruce winded in a frustrated crash. Peter had slept for fourteen hours, and now had been sitting in an exam room for an hour, giving Bruce nothing to work with. Peter’s drooped eyes snapped up and flinched, before biting his lip. “I‘m fine. I just want to go home.” A loud crash indicated the room door opening again.

“Absolutely not! Peter, you were kidnapped! You were a walking corpse when we picked you up, you—“ Tony chided in.

“Tony, I thought I asked you to wait outside.” Bruce sighed, scrubbing a hand over his jaw.

“I did. I got bored.” Tony shrugged, before setting his eyes back on Peter. “And you, let Bruce help. I don’t care if we’ll keep you here forever, but you cannot just block us out. You hear me?” He pointed accusingly.

“Fine.” Peter glared, arms crossed. “Ribs.” He snarled, and Tony took a deep breath to prevent him from wringing the younger man’s neck.

“...Bruce, can we have a moment alone?” Tony responded through he teeth, not moving his glare from the kid. Bruce looked between the stare down and sighed again.

“I’ll just...wait outside.” He trailed off, shuffling out the tense room.

Tony stepped away from the wall he was previously leaning against, before lowering his voice in a harsh whisper. “What the fuck do you think you’re doing?”

Peter remained silent but didn’t remove his range of eyesight.

“Oh? And now I get the silent treatment? Cool, great, wonderful! If you knew how hard I fucking worked to keep you safe, you’d think twice about that, but no! Please, ignore me more!”

“Just let Bruce come back in and then I’ll go home.” Peter mumbled and lowered his arms. Tony snapped the door open and stormed out.

—

“Peter, buddy, pal, chum, mi amigo—talk to us. We’re worried about you. I know you think deflecting will help in the long run, but it doesn’t. God, I would know. Tony should know too, and I’m sorry with all that.“ Clint said, as he hung upside down on the sofa in the tower’s living room. Peter sighed and smiled with a delayed reaction.

“It’s okay, Clint. I’m feeling fine.” Peter replied, skittering to his room in hopes no one would follow.

-

Ned, 3:45 am: peter peter

Ned, 3:46 am: peter

Ned, 3:50 am: you’re probably sleeping but do you wanna hang out tomorrow ok anyway goodnight

Ned, 9:05 pm: hey hey check ur texts

Ned, 12:34 pm: pettter my mom wants 2 know

Ned, 12:46 pm: okay we can do it another day yknow

Ned, 3:54 pm: wait are you okay?

Ned, 4:23 pm: sorry for not asking sooner I just realized we haven’t talked for awhile :((

Ned, 5:34 pm: text me soon I’m worried

Ned, 6:42 pm: peter?

-

Peter’s face was red, eyes blurred from pain. He couldn’t breathe, he could do a basic human action and his chest was tight. Hot tears ran down his face, falling down the tracks like race cars. He gasped harshly, holding his stomach tightly.

The room was hot, hot, hot, oh my god, it was steaming. The blood ran down his side, the floor was covered in it.

_Am I going to die?_

His brain wired back to the guy—whatever the name was—the blood—the pain, alone, he was all alone.

His head throbbed to the beat of his racing heart, and he could’ve sworn he was on he knees before. He’s shutting down, his vision is dark and his arms are weak and he’s shutting down.

 _I can’t do this, anymore._  
-  
“Peter! Peter, it’s okay, it’s all gonna be okay, just—just open your eyes, buddy.” Tony pleaded, as the boy’s face was getting paler in comparison. “Friday, call Bruce and get me a report, what’s going on?” The billionaire shouted.

“My sensors indicate multiple contusions to Master Parker’s chest and shoulder area, caused by broken glass. The stitches for his previous lacerations have been ripped, and immediate action to repair them is recommended. Master Parker is also malnourished and dehydrated, which may have been the cause of him passing out. Doctor Banner has just informed me he is on his way.” Friday ran on.

Peter coughed, eyes watery and red. “Tony—Mhm not feelin’ s’hot.” The boy mumbled under his breath. Tony swallowed and held his arm a little tighter.

“I know, buddy. But Bruce is coming up right now, okay? He’s going to fix you all up.” Tony comforted in a vain attempt as Peter nodded in a heat.

“Tony, what’s going on?” Bruce asked, as soon as he stepped in the bathroom. Tony spluttered a mess response as he stepped away and Bruce immediately got to work. “Friday, get a stretcher and paramedics up here to take Peter to the Medbay. Start a chart, note he needs higher doses.”

Tony held Peter’s hand nervously in the Medbay after Bruce left. A few Avengers came in to check up on the kid, but Tony was alone for the most part.

Turns out, Peter was on some sort of hunger strike. He was malnourished and passed out, dropping a glass in the process and falling right on top of the shattered remains.

Pepper came for a few minutes but she left as soon as she could. He understood she loved the kid and hated to see this. God knows he did, too.

Once Peter woke up, Tony’s hands ran over his face. “I’m sorry, kid. I was an ass.” He mumbled. “Just don’t worry me like that, again.”

“It’s fine, me too.” Peter responded. His eyes lazily looked around the room before shrugging. “Should I bother to ask what got me here?”

“Not if you don’t want a lecture, buddy.” Tony responded, tiredly. He sighed dramatically.

“Listen, is there something more going on about why you were upset before?”

Peter stayed silent.

“Kid?”

The air felt heavy.

“I’m just tired.”

——  
Peter lies awake that night, his heart racing a little too quickly.

Tony doesn’t care.

He’s just his burden.

He can’t talk to him about personal problems, he doesn’t even question when he gives half-assed responses about being tired. Tony should know about that shit—he should *get* it.

“Friday, what time is it?” Peter asked, in his rage.

“7:34pm.” She responded.

“Can you please call Steve down here?”

“Of course, Mr. Parker.”

“Thanks, Friday.”

Within a few minutes, Steve was standing by his bed, listening to his drug-induced rant.

After a thirty minutes of advice from the elder, he called Tony down to explain and relay the information outside the door. Peter could hear everything.

He didn’t stay long enough to hear the end of the conversation. He disconnected all the wires and quickly shoved his clothes and suit into his backpack flung on the medbay room, before any alarms went of.

Peter put on his web shooters and mask, before climbing out the window and making his way back home.

He silenced his phone all night.  
-  
”I’m busy, Steve. I don’t have time to deal with girlfriend and homework issues. I offered him a therapist. And I can’t read minds! I don’t know what he’s feeling if he doesn’t tell me—“

“Tony, you do realize that contradictory, right? You just said you don’t have time for him to tell you what’s wrong, yet you’re upset he won’t tell you? You’re being ridiculous, go talk to your kid! He’s so young, he—“

“Sir, there—“

“Sh, I’m busy, Friday.”

“But, I believe—“

“Anyway, I know why you’re saying, but I cannot always be there for him! I’m not a maid, Cap. I can’t sweep up all his sadness and doubts and throw ‘em out a window. We’re superheroes. We have to deal with it and cope. You can’t teach that, you learn it by yourself.”

“But Tony, you got to understand—“

“I know he’s young, but I was young when I had to teach myself, too, Rogers. Not all of us were given a perfect childhood.”

“Sir! Master Parker has just left the building through the north side of the building. He seemed to be in emotional distress, I believe he may have heard yours and The Captain’s conversation.” Friday finally interjected.

“Shit!”

“Tony, you have to go get him. He could hurt himself in this condition, not even considering his emotional state.”

”Holy shit. Jesus. Okay, yeah. Fuuuuck, okay.” He rambled, frantically pressing on a watch, until a suit inclosed him. 

“Let’s go.”


	6. Chapter 6

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> thank you so so so much for all the love on this work. i appreciate every single comment and kudos! i worked really hard on all these even if they sucked and took so so long but im so glad i finally finished this work. 
> 
> this chapter was so hard for me to write and was basically jus a vent place during really hard times in my life. i had to rewrite the car scene over and over and over again, first with a seizure, then a gunshot, and then Tony was hurt again and I hated all of them so I just finished with a concussion . 
> 
> once again thank u sm for reading and if u enjoyed pls leave a comment, kudos, or check out my other works!

Peter was tired. Lately, it seemed like all he was, but this—this was new. A bone-shaking and mind-draining type of tired. a nerve wracking, heart thumping type of tired. He was exhausted, physically, mentally, emotionally. Every way his body could feel so fucking broken—

His parents are dead.

Uncle Ben is dead.

Liz is gone.

  
Everyone around him died or left. It was only a matter of time, for Tony, for May, Ned, and MJ. He recklessly climbed across the towering rooftops, before settling around Hell’s Kitchen. He ripped off the suffocating mask, after silencing Karen and assuring her he was fine.

Peter gazed at the empty sky, body cold and and the night quiet. He never saw the stars. The clouds rumbled, and for a brief moment, Peter was sure it would rain—he’d be soaked and crying at whatever time it was.

But the rumbling was sedated, slowly and quietly. It was replaced with a heavy rush of thrusters—a sound he knew all too well—blasting through the silence he worked so hard to keep. He didn’t bother raising his head, letting it lay slack against the rough pavement of the roof.

The suit hissed quietly as Tony stepped out, a soft sigh releasing from his lips. “Kid—Peter,” He began, slowly. Peter didn’t know it was possible for The Tony Stark to speak so softly. It didn’t lessen the burden’s on Peter’s shoulders.

The kid sighed and sat up, cringing when his body ached heavily. He should’ve just went home. It would’ve definitely helped his soreness, with a nice, hot bath. “I just want space, man.” Peter mumbled, looking past Tony.

Tony frowned and sat next to the mask-less vigilante. “Someone could see your face out here, yknow.”

Peter glared up at him with watery eyes and a bright-red face and muttered a questionable phrase.

“Does it matter anymore?”

And Tony’s heart broke.

“Peter, you’re not healthy enough to go on patrol right now—“ He started, before Peter stood up completely, pulling his mask back on.

“Thanks for checking on me, Mr. Stark, but I’m gonna go for a walk, or a swing—whatever spiders do.” Peter muttered, dropping his body of the building with a half-assed wave.

“Peter—“ he started, but the kid was gone.

Tony sat there, alone. He couldn’t force the kid to go with him, and as long as he wasn’t fighting crime, he guessed it would be okay. Right?

-

A call from Karen came through two hours later, after Tony had locked himself in his workshop. Tony hoped the kid would’ve gone home by now, considering it was almost seven pm.

“ _Peter is currently experiencing emotional distress. Usually, I would not be so quick to inform you of this, but Peter is surrounded by multiple criminals. I am afraid he will hurt himself if he goes to fight them in this state. I am sending you his coordinates right now.”_

“Thanks, Carrie, or whatever your name is. I’ll be there in a hot sec.” He joked, with a frown resting on his face.

-

Turns out, Peter was fine.

Well, mostly.

Tony, on the other hand...well, there was a gun to his head, if that meant anything (and god damnit, he should’ve brought the suit.)

Peter happened to swing by a mugging, just as Happy stopped the tinted-black Audi that Tony stepped out of. The guy must have panicked as he saw Spiderman. The man ran away who was being mugged ran away, and the criminal grabbed the billionaire in a nervous gesture.

Peter dropped down from the roof he was resting on, laggier than usual. “Hey, you have fun terrorizing philanthropists on a regular basis? I know it’s one of mannnnny people’s hobbies.”

The man held the gun tighter, ignoring the shaking. “L-Listen, buddy—I just needed the money, b-but you saw my face and I can’t—“ He stuttered out, as Peter went though the combinations on his suit to find a poison web. (I know, poison webs. Ridiculous, but hey, practical? Maybe?)

“I know man, it’s a rough life. Maybe pick up another job? Not shoot a billionaire? Just a suggestion, buddy.”

Peter hung from the side of the alley, as Karen figured out the projection rate to make sure he didn’t miss his shot.

“Watch out, Mr. Stark.” He mumbled, before doing some sort of flip and flinging the web towards the gun, pulling it away and then shooting the man’s arms. “Hope these aren’t lethal.”

The man was knocked out in seconds, barely having time to comprehend what just happened. Tony had already taken the liberty to call the police to explain while Peter left the gun spiderwebbed to the brick wall, far atop the men’s reaching capabilities. Tony sighed dramatically as he hung up, slinging in arm over the kid’s shoulders. “Thanks, kid. You did good. And don’t worry, those just knock ‘em out for a few hours. Useful, huh?”

Peter barely smiled, huffing a nervous laugh out. “Yeah, uhm, sorry about that. Before, I—uh mean.” Peter scrubbed the back of his neck, as Tony slowly lead them to the car.

“Don’t sweat it. You and I are gon’ go back to the tower and have a nice long chat about everything, so don’t worry.“

Peter nodded, climbing into the back, Tony following. Peter removed his mask, shaking his hair out and tossing it next to him on the seat. Tony talked quietly, asking how he felt, if he was okay, the whole shebang. Peter just answered with short, articulate, responses. Tony was a little more than worried.

All of a sudden, Peter felt an intense tingling spread down his spine and a pulse at the back of his head. “Something’s wrong.” He said, soft.

Tony looked at him oddly. Peter flinched as the feeling hit him much harder. “Something’s wrong—”

The window between Tony and Happy was up, and Happy couldn’t hear. Peter pulled Tony closer to the middle of the seat, covering him with his body on an instinct.

Barely two seconds later, a crash spread throughout the seat, pulsing metal and crashing glass filled the car. Tony let out a strangled gasp, as Peter panted, pale and lethargic.

The car skid, flipping once, ending back upright. Peter felt nauseous. Tony breathed out heavily when the window between the front and back opened. “Tony? Peter? You guys okay?” Happy spoke, softly.

“Mhm, Peter?” Tony felt blood running down his forehead, definitely a concussion. “Pete?” He asked after a few seconds of not hearing an answer. He shook the kid’s shoulder.

No response.

“Peter?” He sounded more panicked. He managed to lean the kid up against the opposite door. He was coated in blood from pieces of glass, and Tony panicked more. “Hey, kid, open your eyes for me—Happy, call a med team, right now.” Tony shook Peter’s shoulder again, the darkness hiding his face.

Peter’s drowsy eyes raised to half-lidded. He had a lopsided smile and reached a hand to hold Tony’s. “‘M good, M’ster St’rk, d’n’t worry.” Peter managed to mutter, squeezing the billionaire’s hand for reassurance. Tony took a deep breath.

“Hey, Pete, keep your eyes open for me. How you feelin’? That was a pretty rough scrape up.” Tony felt around Peter to assure there were no more injuries.

“‘M ‘kay. Head h’urt,” Peter slurred, and Tony nodded.

“Yeah, yeah, I can see how. You probably hit it pretty hard, but don’t worry. Happy is getting medics here right now, and soon you’ll be home and good as new.”

Peter nodded, leaning into Tony to hug him, and Tony cradled his head, feeling the warm blood coating the back of his head. Peter was still in his Spiderman suit. Shit. “Happy, don’t let anyone in until Stark Medics get here, and block the press out. The kid is still in his suit.”

Happy nodded, getting out of the car and grabbing his thankfully still functioning phone. “You got it, boss.”

“Pete, you still with me?”

“‘Course, M’ster Stark. Would n’ver leave you.” Peter mumbled, and Tony wanted to cry or get drunk or work off this pressure. The kid leaned back against the car door, looking curiously around. At least the his voice seemed less slurred.

Tony sat there for minutes, holding the protégé‘s shoulders with shaking hands, repeating broken mantras of safety. Once in awhile he would ask Peter if he was still awake, when his eyes slipped closed which he would get a quiet mumble in response and a half-lidded smile.

“M’ster Stark?” The kid voiced, quietly and unsure. “Are you okay?”

“’Course. Wouldn’t be without you, kiddo.” Tony ruffled the kids hair, feeling blood and sweat ruffled in his curls. “I’m so proud of you, Pete.”

Peter nodded, smiling loosely again. “‘hanks, M’ster Stark.”

“Everything’s gonna be okay, kid. Just keep those eyes open for me.” Tony said, and Peter sniffled.

“M’ster Stark? Wh’re are we?” Tony’s chest throbbed. He pressed a hand to his forehead.

“Jesus, Peter, I’m too old for his.”

Peter’s eyes opened, and he looked around curiously. Nothing like someone who just was in a crash. “What ‘ppened?”

“Car crash, Pete. The mugging, you remember?”

“You ‘till mad at me?” Peter asked quietly. Tony squeezed his shoulder.

“Course not, kid. Could never be mad at you.” The car seemed suffocating and small, and Tony knew the likelihood of Peter remembering this, but the smile on the teen’s face made it all worth it.

“Mhm, okay.” Peter looked up at the ceiling, feeling around the seat for broken glass. “Are we gon’ b’kay? Honestly?”

Tony huffed. “I’ll never let anything happen to you, Pete.” He said softer, Peter smiling.

“I trust you.” Those were the clearest words Peter had said so far and Tony was so thankful the kid was okay, and Happy was okay. If there wasn’t blood smeared around the duo, it would seem just like a heart to heart scene. Tony wished it just was.

The pair elapsed into silence, Peter’s huffing and uneven breaths the only sound filling the air—despite the loud traffic, horns beeping, and general chatter of the city—it felt silent.

The paramedics came, lauding prying off the doors. “You guys awake?” The thick Staten Island accent called. Pete nodded in the dark.

“Yeah.” Tony said back, still keeping his volume low for the sake of the kid. The medic seemed to get the gist and lowered his voice.

“We were filled in on your situation, can you climb out? We have stretchers and ambulances prepared already.”

-

Tony managed to convince the medics to let him ride in Peter’s ambulance, with a promise he’d be checked over as well. Peter kept a crushing grip on Tony’s hand, as Tony called May and the other Avengers to fill them in.

(All of them, of course, wanted to visit immediately. Tony pushed them off in a promise they could come tomorrow.)

Peter closed his eyes, Tony’s voice a constant reminder of where he was.

-

The next day, Peter woke up early. He looked around, already seeing the superficial cuts healed and small white scars replacing them. He looked down and noticed all his other injuries had healed as well, and his head didn’t feel as stuffy and confined.

Well, super healing. That’s convenient.

Tony sat next to him. He smiled up from his tablet when he noticed Peter woke up.

“Hey, kid. How you feelin?” Tony said, placing the tablet on the table next to him. Peter smiled softly, poking at the IV. Peter noticed a bandage around Tony’s head.

“‘M okay. Feel a lot better. You okay?” Tony smiled again at that.

“That’s great, kid. I’m fine, just a minor concussion and some scrapes. But we need to talk.”

Peter swallowed. “Mhm?”

“I’m sorry, kid. I’m worried about you. You haven’t been sleeping or eating and you’re always tired—it’s not healthy, I’m just wondering if there’s something else going on.” Tony cleared his throat. “You know I’m always—always—here for you,” Tony‘s voice cracked as he let out a wet huff. Peter’s eyes were wide and brows furrowed.

“I can’t lose you, Peter. I’m so worried you’re going to get hurt and I don’t know how to deal with that stress. I know it’s not something you can prevent but I’m always just convinced whatever you do is my fault. I can’t control what happens to you, I know,” Tony let out a huff. “I’m sorry.”

Peter nodded in sympathy, eyes downcast. “It’s okay, I don’t blame you. There’s been a lot on my mind recently and I know I shouldn’t have taken it out on you. I’m sorry for being difficult.”

Tony smiled.

“It’s alright, you ready to go? Doc said as long as you weren’t in pain, you‘d be fine to stay at the tower.”

Peter brightened at that and nodded. “Yeah man, I just want this needle out of my arm. Really freakin’ me out, here.”

-

Steve gave Peter a hug, and Bucky a pat on his back when he returned from the hospital. “If you ever need anything, Peter, you know I’m always here for you. All we want is the best for you, and if Tony is being thick-skulled again, just let me know.” Steve smiled.

Bucky nodded. “Same here. Could always use an excuse to yell at the old man.” Tony rolled his eyes from the corner.

“Of course, tainting my pupil with your fake news as soon as he’s healthy.” The billionaire muttered. Bruce let out a hefty laugh.

Peter blushed under all the attention and sat by the table with his homework. “Thanks, guys.”

“Mortals! Dinner is served!” Thor yelled from the kitchen

“Remind me why we had the literal alien make us dinner, again?” Clint rolled his eyes.

“He can cook better than you.” Natasha muttered, walking into the kitchen.

Peter smiled and finished off a math problem before shoving it all into his folder. He ran into the kitchen to grab a plate, and smiled when Thor clapped him on the back and congratulated him for his ‘battle scars’.

“Back on Asgard, such scars are seen as battles won! Something to be proud of! So I congratulate you, Spiderling, on your bravery and I am proud of our comradeship!” Thor declared—doesn’t everything he says sound like a declaration?—and smiled widely. “Here is a feast to celebrate!”

Peter laughed and mumbled something like a thank you while stuffing his mouth with pasta and bread.

Tony came over to grab the kid into a half hug, raising a glass filled with red wine.

“The past few years I’ve known this wonderful kid, Peter has saved me not once, but multiple times. This is a toast to a kid who always puts others first, and is one of the smartest and bravest people I have had the honor of knowing. Here’s to Spiderkid!” Tony toasted, smiling wide.

“Thank you, Peter. For everything you’ve done for us.”

The clinking if glasses and agreements filled he air and Peter sipped on cranberry juice in his wine glass (Thor’s idea. He didn’t want Peter to be left out while everyone drank, tonight.)

Peter smiled, and for the first time in awhile, he felt happy.

-

Peter told Tony how he was feeling a month later in the lab. It was quiet and Tony was probably mad since Peter almost drowned—again—and Tony had to come to the rescue. They got in a fight about him being reckless, the whole team was a witness. Peter stormed into his room and didn’t come out until Tony offered a truce with working in the lab to make his suit more water resistant.

-

“ _Stop treating me like a kid!”_

_“You are one!”_

_“Tony—calm down.” Steve jumped in._

_“I’m not! I’m almost seventeen, Tony. Maybe this is hard for you to understand, but I can take care of myself!”_

_“You almost drowned and then continued to fight!”_

_“Yeah, almost! I dragged myself out of that river by myself! What don’t you understand?”_

_“If I wasn’t there to save you—“_

_“—I would have been fine!”_

_“You would’ve gotten—“_

_“Guys, stop. Talk this out like—“ Bruce tried._

_“Stay. Out. Of. This.”_

_“Do you just like feeling like you’re doing some great deed by helping the poor orphan?”_

_“Peter—“_

_“Publicity? Tony Stark, saving Spiderman from drowning—“_

_“Maybe it’s just the fact I fucking care about you! And I don’t want you to die!”_

_“Oh, no. This must go back to the ‘it’s on me’ thing, doesn’t it?”_

_“Peter!”_

_“You just don’t want more blood on your hands—newsflash, you aren’t my dad! You can’t control everything I do!”_

_“I never—“_

_“–Oh right! You—“_

_“–Peter, you’re—“_

_“I’m what?”_

_“You’re being childish! This is why I took the suit away, you’re not old enough to handle any responsibility and frankly—“_

_“Oh yeah, completely cut every issue out of your life. That worked with the Ferry incident, right?”_

_“Peter,”_

_“Do you know how fucking lost I felt when you just ignored me all of a sudden? When you took the only thing that made me feel complete away? The way it feels to be completely crushed my concrete and beat and torn by metal fucking claws with no protection? Did you even think about that?”_

_“You needed to learn a lesson.”_

_“You should know by now that scars aren’t a good way to learn ‘lessons,’ Tony.” Peter’s eyes were red and watering, voice harsh and broken. Peter turned around, fists clenched, running towards the stairs._

_And fuck, when did the kid get so old?_

_-_

“Tony.” Peter started, looking at him while he worked. Tony didn’t look up. “Tony.” He tried again, louder this time.

The billionaire looked up. “Yes?” He raised an eyebrow. Peter could see the agitated look on his face. Maybe he thought Peter would apologize when he called him down. Maybe Tony though he would.

“I’m depressed.”

The words stung Tony, and he looked at Peter like a lost puppy. “I—“ He started.

Peter cut him off. “I’m always so agitated and sad and moody, and I’m sorry—“

“Peter—“

“I don’t mean to take it out on you, but sometimes I just think I’d be better off out of your life because you’re busy and have more important things to worry about then _me_ —“

“Peter, stop—“

“I know what you’re going to say, and it is my fault because there’s people who a dead because of me and everything hurts so badly, Mr. Stark. I don’t know—“

“Peter, I know you are. I have access to your medical records, May told me, and it’s pretty obvious. Why do you think I’m always worried about you, kid?”

Peter looked down.

“You know I don’t blame you. I’ve been depressed before, I know how it feels and you can’t help it. I’m so sorry you have to go through this, but that’s why everyone always tells you they’re here for you. They just want what’s best for you.”

Peter sniffed and nodded. “Thanks, Mr. Stark. I’m sorry for yelling at you before.” Tony gripped his shoulder and smiled.

“No problem, Pete. Don’t sweat it.” Tony stood, helping Peter up and escorting him to his private room. “You’re gon’ get some early z’s tonight, I’ll be right here if you need me.” Peter nodded, reaching for a hug.

“Thank you for always being here, Mr. Stark.”

“Of course, kid. Anytime.”


End file.
